IT IS A FACT. TWO YEARS AGO, I sat in this exact spot—third couch cushion from the office door—next to Armstrong, who also sat in the same spot, a high-backed armchair next to the fireplace. I was there to report a December 2006 cover story about his first year in retirement. I had just set my digital recorder on the table and was glancing one last time at my notes when Armstrong asked the first question of the interview.

"What was with that Floyd cover?"

He was referring to the July 2006 cover of Outside, which featured a black-and-white head shot of one Floyd Landis, with the cover line LANCE WHO?

"I mean, two years ago it was me on the cover with the line 'The World's Greatest Athlete,'" he'd continued, unwilling to let me off the hook. "And now it's 'lance who?'"

We agreed to disagree—and the interview was perfectly friendly after that. But it was my first experience with The Memory, the way he squirrels away criticisms and slights for future use. Talking to Armstrong, you get the sense that he has read every word ever written about him, no matter how obscure or irrelevant the source. His closest allies confirm this. "Lance has always drawn motivation from anger and resentment," his coach, Johan Bruyneel, recently told Belgium's La Dernière Heure.

This time around, as I set up my digital recorder on the coffee table, Armstrong thumbs away at his BlackBerry, updating his Twitter account, a ten-day-old habit that has already attracted more than 5,000 followers. Sample post: Done in the gym (sharpest workout yet) and riding. Bout to eat lunch. 10:47 AM Nov 13th. We talk for a moment about blogs, which leads Armstrong to comment on a few posts on Outside Online that have taken digs at him recently. He really does read and remember everything.

Describe the call when you told your coach, Johan Bruyneel, you were coming back.
[Laughs] He thought I was kidding. He said, "Call in tomorrow when you're not drunk." He didn't see it coming.

No one did. Everyone I've talked to who works with you tells me they were shocked. Was this completely spontaneous?
No, it was a gradual process. This summer I was training for the Chicago Marathon, just training to get fit. We were lifting, running, trail running, riding—a lot of diverse stuff. I started to lose weight and really get into the workouts. This is all kind of happening as the Tour's going on, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't get caught up in the buzz.

Was it hard to watch the Tour after you retired? Did you think to yourself, I probably could have won one more?
None of those Tours did I think that. I watched '06, '07, and it never occurred to me. I watched it just as a fan. You make observations about the race, the style of racing, the way they race tactically, strategically, the pace of the race, the attitude of the race. But there was not a lightbulb moment during [the 2008 Tour] either.

Everyone knows you've stayed in shape, but it's nothing like training for a full season of cycling. Why go back to that?
I don't mind the training part. I like suffering, and I like putting myself through hard workouts and the structure around that. My life has been more complicated these past few years off the bike. You know, it's "You need to go here and speak" and "You need to appear here for this …" It's a harder existence for me. There's less structure, and it's less physical. And I like racing. It could be local, it could be 12 Hours of Snowmass—they feel the same to me. I get butterflies just like everybody else. But give me a starting line, a finish line, and a bike … I'm lining up.